


Hyacinth's Fic-filment Collection

by Hyacinthium



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Amputation Kink, Angst, Blood and Gore, Chocolate, Confessions, Deepthroating, Degradation, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mindbreak, Mouth Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Office Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Praise Kink, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Sounding, Urination, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-10-26 04:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: A collection of fics written to fill requests. Each chapter will have more specific warnings in the notes. Any requests made will be filled at my leisure, based on how much they inspired me and similar. Differences between fill and request may happen. Length likewise varies.Both sfw and nsfw requests are welcome. Please make all explicitly nsfw requests anonymously!REQUESTS CLOSED





	1. NSFW, Saiou, Tokyo Ghoul au

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the idea of both my ghoul versions living together at once, with consensual cannibalism being offered by Ghoulhara to Ghoulkichi. Ghoulhara ends up getting hard from being eaten a bit... 
> 
> So; Cannibalism, Ghoul Cannibalism, Disordered Eating and suicidal thoughts on Kokichi's part, some mentioned force feeding, and Shuichi being gore kinky. 
> 
> Thanks to Ches for requesting!

That night, like all Dinner nights, Saihara slowly washes dishes while looking back at Kokichi's blank eyes. Sometimes they'll both maintain eye contact. Worry filled gold digging into red and black. Not even the rushing of water or the clinking of dishes can disturb it. Kokichi will always continue to gaze, eyelids unmoving stone. 

Like an animal too scared to approach even the slightest hint of carcass.

Kokichi knows exactly what Saihara Shuichi must think of him. A ghoul that refuses to eat, hates eating. Only to intently watch another ghoul eat. There's little more to that other than the word 'worthless'. Even the way that Kokichi ends up being fed isn't as lacking in dignity. At least watching videos of humans eating food can be called an interesting hobby. Trying to cook food for Saihara is an endearing way to show gratitude. 

Forcing Saihara to shove human flesh down his throat while kicking and screaming is at least consistent with Kokichi being a pacifist.

Golden eyes flicker between Kokichi, the boy hiding behind the couch, and sudsy dishes. Saihara himself is a ghoul despite also being some lucky mutant. Kokichi can't stop envy from building up. All because of the other boy's parents belonging in some unpublished ghoul-human romance novel. It's just plain distasteful to live with. Constantly thinking about how the person that saved you can eat all the foods he wants. Meanwhile, Saihara makes the conscious decision to occasionally hunt humans.

Not that Kokichi himself can judge any longer. He's lost the right to moral high ground. For as long as Saihara at least pays lip service to the ideal, so long as he swears he's only eating the worst of human scum... 

It's just barely acceptable.

At the same exact time though, the ghoul can't even hate Saihara in the least. It's more like he despises each and every circumstance surrounding them. Saihara is a useful piece of undeniable proof. Ghouls and humans can live together- they can even reproduce and raise the child into a mostly good person. He is, really, a goodish person trying to become a detective. 

Pale fingers tap against dark brown leather. Vanta black and shining red blink. Slowly, Kokichi allows himself to smell the remnants of human meat again. Saihara usually cooks with some kind of spice. This time didn't have any though. 

Nearly bloodless lips thin as Kokichi quickly realizes what that means. Spices make him sick. The average ghoul can only handle just a bit of salt. Which means that Saihara will try feeding him soon.

"Hey, Ouma-san?" comes that now domestically familiar voice. Shuichi puts the lash dish into the rack, and begins to rinse his hands. The half-ghoul eventually shuts on the water and turns around silently.

Quivering and knobby knees shift before Kokichi straightens his back. The boy pushes himself up just until his chin rests on the couch's back. Fingers scratch at the leather, making satisfying sounds that coax the ghoul away from his thoughts. His traitorous mouth fills with sour tasting saliva. Even like this, so very used to the ache of hunger, Kokichi's body dares to demand food. 

"What?" he asks. Then he winces at how weak he sounds. 

Saihara smiles too calmly for safety to be existent. Usually, the other ghoul will wait for the scent of cooked flesh to fully invade Kokichi's lungs. Then Saihara will spend time doing schoolwork, and knowingly allow his rescued roommate to flounder. It's a cruel method of making sure that Kokichi is really feeling nausea gnaw away at his stomach too. Only afterwards will the two of them borderline battle.

In other words, neither of them ever smile when Kokichi's apathetically suicidal self has to have meat shoved into his gullet.

Energy seems to thrum within Saihara's body as the boy starts rushes over. Soon there's only a slight distance between their face. Kokichi can fully recognize the same light in those eyes again. Just the same as when Saihara first looked down at him, at Kokichi's starving and broken contours half hidden by alleyway carnage. A single minded and fanatically frantic kind of hope. It's shocking enough that ghoulish sclera and irises slip back into a human combination of dull purple-white. 

"I think that I've figured out how to help you!" the too close half-ghoul exclaims. His eyes crinkle with fondness. "Ouma-san really tries to ignore it. But I really do have strong respect for you. Both the you of back when..."

Back when DICE was run by him, back when the original core members of DICE were alive, and the memories make Kokichi look away from his overly friendly benefactor. It truly isn't fair that Kokichi can't handle talking about them. Not to him nor to Saihara. Every attempt to do it ends horrifically. That or it works too well, and Kokichi gets crushed by images of their deaths. Saihara rarely brings it up now.

A warm huff of air hits Kokichi's face as Saihara's expression softens, "If Ouma-san doesn't want to eat humans, then he should just eat me instead."

Purple glazes over at the thought of it. His breathing stops and starts all at once, Kokichi's lips parting wordlessly. Saihara merely hums joyfully despite the fact that he's broken someone's brain. A fog settles inside of the ghoul. Both mind and heart are made to waddle through it. 

Eating from Saihara. Consuming the half-ghoul who insists in admiring the pile of skin that wallows in stolen pajamas. To help Kokichi like that is foolish. Far more aligned with madness than allowing him to live. Giving part of your body to a failure shouldn't be done. 

Croaking wheezes escape from Kokichi's throat. Hearing them, and how pitifully needy they are, makes the boy want to scream.

Deep red spreads across Saihara's face and even his ears. The other boy coughs before backing away, hands slipping off of the couch. He lifts one to cover his chin and mumbles, "I'm sorry about getting like that. My offer still stands though, since I'll just heal from it and I'll taste good too."

"Saihara-chan is like a big dumb puppy," Kokichi says blandly. 

The boys look away from one another. Kokichi stares down at his hands as they clench down onto leather, knuckles white. Deciding to feed from Saihara sounds too intimate. Actually, how does the half-ghoul feel about him? It's a question that Kokichi always comes back to. Hearing similar enthusiasm and watching Saihara live a far more functional life can't tell him. Truthfully, the ghoul doesn't have anything like that drive anymore. 

Kokichi closes his eyes after resting his forehead on cool and textured material. He sighs too, plum colored hair falling limp around him. Saihara makes one of his habitual sound effects of concern.

"Right now?"

It's a terrible thing to take this offer up. 

Yet, Kokichi does it anyway. Slowly. Quietly and clearly all the same.

"Only if you want to! I mean, it's been a long time since you last ate... And I just ate something myself, which means that it should be fine," Saihara bursts out, just as devotedly as before. Kokichi wonders at the fact of it. Saihara has always been this way towards him. 

Falling nearly limp, Kokichi feels that hole in his chest cave in further. Saihara wants to help him to the point of cannibalism. Not that they aren't already ghouls, but to eat another ghoul is taboo. Just as it is with humans. 

Saihara has a delicious scent.

The ghoul peers up at his rescuer and locks eyes with excited gold. 

"I'm... I'm really hungry though. What if I just eat Saihara-chan entirely?" the ghoul whispers, fear and the taste of meat-bile-mindlessness threatening his tongue. "What if doing this to myself comes back and makes me indulge in you?"

A smattering of blinks.

"Well, I don't think that Ouma-kun is capable of killing me right now. I'm good at healing, I've eaten and have more available, and I'm not exactly going to let you bite my jugular!" the boy explains with a smile.

“You're saying that like you don't trust me with your jugular. That's really cruel,” Kokichi's poor attempts at humor are an obvious smoke screen. Still, Saihara snorts after considering the words. 

Navy blue fabric is pushed up until it bunches. Kokichi's eyes lock onto the pale skin of Saihara's right arm. The half-ghoul takes good care of himself, from hair to skin. He sweats easily and often takes showers because of it. Gentle products with faint yet stubborn scents, a good diet, and decent enough exercise. Saihara really treats himself like someone that has to maintain an image. Kokichi remembers what that's like. 

Looks tasty. 

In the end, both of them get up and walk into the bathroom. Borrowed pajama pants drag against wood flooring as shuffled footsteps betray apprehension. Kokichi can't help it though. The boy is scared though he's finally getting cursed with a settled stomach. 

Entering the bathroom almost makes him dizzy. So too does how they end up. Sitting down on the edge of the tub with Saihara in only his underwear. Kokichi forces his eyes to stay locked onto a bicep. It's a mix of softness and muscle. Really nice and juicy looking. Nothing awkward about looking there, and avoiding the sight of even juicier, thick, plush looking thighs- 

Getting blood out of clothing is a pain, but does that really call for such exposure? 

“Maybe Ouma-san should take off his shirt too? Ah… nevermind,” the half-ghoul murmurs, tapping at the pure white tub. His face is still flushed enough to make Kokichi turn red too. 

Kokichi scoots closer, ears full with breath-wind-pulse-fabric, and closer still until he's within proper biting distance. He could ask a dozen times if Saihara Shuichi actually means it. Maybe the ghoul can even make Saihara take it back. An absolute pipe dream. The other boy smells like anticipation even to Kokichi's degraded senses. Even his eyes are full of it, and it's sending visions molten metal into Kokichi's brain. 

It's a little bit uncomfortable to straightforwardly acknowledge how beautiful Saihara is. Perhaps exploitive is a better word. 

To get saved despite wanting to die like trash, to be fed despite wanting to wither, to find something like friendship while rotting within four unfamiliar walls; Kokichi can't possibly parasite off of Saihara's hospitality more than he already has. 

Saihara shifts and moves until his upper arm is right in front of Kokichi's face. 

His mouth. His slowly parting lips which hide fully functional teeth. His throat which is suddenly so open and empty. His tongue that is tingling and swimming in a sea of drool. His wanton mouth, leading to his esophagus, ending in a shrunken yet needily yearning stomach. His eyes too partake in a single moment of self control, gliding toward Saihara's face while silently begging for permission. 

Pink lips curl into an encouraging grin, and that's the last second in which Kokichi's mouth isn't full of warm blood.

Coffee. The blood tastes like delicious coffee and the smell of rain. Hints of what Saihara eats, sweetness, and spices that Kokichi has always wanted to try. Bursting and seeping onto taste buds. Groaning, Kokichi dizzily registers that his hands are gripping onto warm skin. Digging down and clawing into the softness of Saihara's arm. It pushes more blood into the ghoul's mouth.

Desperately grateful mewls bundle up inside of Kokichi's chest, but he's too busy swallowing down precious fluids to let them out. He shudders profusely with each gulp. Each time he's eaten since the death of DICE has been hell. This though, no, this is the most satisfying thing he's ever had. Everything in the boy's mouth is a live-wire. Blooming back into activity as the blood coaxes his angry stomach into behaving.

"Mmnmph," Kokichi exhales noisily, teeth finally biting all the way down. He chews as quickly as possible and goes back for more. Jaw working overtime while the ghoul devours fat, muscle, and skin. 

Each part of Saihara's arm has just a slightly different taste. And all of it makes Kokichi's eyesight become of blur of tears and tunnel vision.

It's good... It's really good... 

Kokichi's thoughts repeat that mantra over and over, even when ruthless teeth scrape against bone. The sound still makes him stop with an empty headed pause. Soft lips slowly caress that too, and a blood covered tongue starts to lick at Saihara's raw meat. Already, Kokichi can feel the half ghoul start to heal despite each breathless slurp.

Misty eyes glance over towards a a clenched fist, and then set their sights on what should be a face contorted by pain. Only to find a face made almost blank by hard won stoicism. Although even Kokichi's far off mind can spot the discomfort, and pain, Saihara looks almost peaceful. When one ignores the way his lips are pursed or how his left hand is gripping the tub. 

None of that is what Kokichi fixates on.

Saihara's eyes are still like gold set on fire. Drops of gunmetal and even glints of green, they're shining with something that grows more and more intense with each suckling of meat.

The ghoul pulls his mouth back a few inches while looking down, and whispers, "You pervert."

He's still not thinking clearly, stuck on having a full stomach, but there's no way that Kokichi can ignore that erection. The ghoul can't even understand why Saihara is so obviously aroused. Why would anyone be turned on when they're being eaten? Just the concept seems outlandish. 

Black eyelashes momentarily obscure the gold that Kokichi can't look away from. 

"I-I didn't know. I didn't know that it would happen, this isn't..." the other boy winces at the sound of his own voice. Saihara just barely fails to hide the trembling of his lower lip. "Taking advantage of Ouma-san isn't what I wanted!" 

A face covered in drying blood slowly slackens from disbelief. Kokichi wheezes and scoffs, almost indignant at the prospect. He also steals peeks at the rather large tent in those boxers. One singular person that saves strangers, is going to a top tier University, and tries to nurse a potentially murderous ghoul back to health. That's who Saihara is. Detective to be, bleeding heart idiot extraordinare. 

Kokichi frowns, "You're letting me eat you. Let me stay here for six months. Saihara-chan, I'm an uneducated ghoul whose only good qualities are gone."

Saihara stares at him with a lack of understanding. 

"The one taking advantage is me," Kokichi quietly admits. Pale hands release abused arms, and itchy eyes watch as the wound completely vanishes. 

"Getting better isn't going to happen even if you feed me. A cure for this probably doesn't exist," he continues, licking his lips. "Saihara-chan knows that by now though. I see it each time he cries while forcing me to chew."

"Its painful. Having to watch Ouma-san suffer is aways painful."

Purple eyes close. 

"And hearing Ouma-kun talk like I'm not allowed to care about him is worse!"

Confused, then utterly discombobulated, Kokichi's eyes snap open as Saihara's arms wrap around him. 

"Because... I really care about you! So I get scared that I'm not doing enough to help, or that I'm letting you stay like this because part of me-" a shudder runs through them both as their bodies press together. "Loves taking care of you. Enjoys not being alone anymore."

"You're confesssing to me like this?" Kokichi gently questions, the half-ghoul's faint hardness warm as they embrace. Both of them are soaked in tacky blood now. The pajamas are ruined and yet, all the boy can do is privately wish he'd undressed as well. 

Warm skin shivers as the ghoul silently caresses Saihara's back. It's not an answer, but the way that they get even closer is. Saihara has some kind of crush on Ouma Kokichi, once mighty leader of DICE. An organization built upon the ideal of ghoul-human cooperation and cohabitation. To which Saihara Shuichi would be the perfect and ultimate proof. Who clearly sees Kokichi as someone more than just admirable. 

"I'll have to start doing more chores around the apartment, really be like a little old school housewife," Kokichi murmurs into a soon flushed ear. 

Saihara detaches himself from their hug with an almost scandalized expression. Then he freezes at the look on Kokichi's own face. 

"Hey, Saihara-chan? I'm still hungry... Can I take a bite off if your thigh this time?" the ghoul whispers with a small, salacious, and smug smile. Five seconds pass. Saihara's flush extends down towards his collar bones. 

Plush thighs slowly part.


	2. SFW, saiou, Tsundere Shuichi for Valentines.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi prepares for Valentine's Day over the course of months. Finally, he readies his chocolates and heads off to Ouma. Paired with: the aggression toward cuteness effect and lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I did on the tsundere tbh. Most of it was done on purpose. 
> 
> I tried to put the tear kink in here but... It wanted to stay sfw. Next time 👀

All a manner of delightful treats rest on pure white marble. Sitting innocently on what might be a cutting board, which itself lays on granite kitchen countertops. Deep within the hallowed halls of Hope's Peak itself. Their creator stares with all the wonder of someone in shock. 

Chocolate truffles, the flavors of which are a dark chocolate Chilli and Honey Ganache. Covered with a coating of both black and pure cocoa powder. The mellow and natural sweetness of the honey pairs deliciously with the heat from the chili infused chocolate. 

Ruby Chocolate, RB1, a strange yet exciting new kind of chocolate revealed in 2017. Turned into a magazine ready bonbons with a Raspberry Ganache filling. Molded to look like the same beautiful cherry blossoms that stuffed his desk last year. A lovely gloss, a wonderful color, and a meaningful shape.

He has done all that can and could be done. The chocolates that he has dedicated all day to making are free from the creation process. Indeed, even he himself must acknowledge that they're beautiful. Even the pink ones that required quite a bit of money to set up. 

A single finger pokes at a solitary truffle.

Saihara Shuichi gently picks it up a brings it to his lips, allowing cocoa powder to dust them before popping his hard work inside. He glances over and sees Toujou watching with approval in her eyes. It makes him remember that scraping metal sound of tempering the Ruby Chocolate. Without her coaching, this would have been impossible. Almost still was due to Shuichi’s stubborn insistence that he do all the real work himself.

The fact that the Ultimate Detective has done all this...

It's surprising for him too. Especially when the boy considers why he's doing this at all. Giving chocolates to Ouma Kokichi is not at all what Shuichi planned on doing for Valentine's Day. Making them by hand? 

The crunchy coating of the truffle both melts and gives way. Shuichi welcomes the melting ganache as sweetness spreads. With it comes spice and a familiar bitterness that comes with all dark chocolate. Nevertheless, he smiles at the taste while Toujou gathers the box. 

For the next few minutes there is only a comfortable silence as the chocolates are boxed up.

"If I may... Saihara-san is making these for someone special, correct?" Toujou's melodiously calm voice asks with a hint of pride, her gloved fingers steadily placing the lid onto the box. She nimbly ties the rectangular box with a bright red ribbon. Eyes lock together before Shuichi nods nervously.

Pale lips thin as an almost shrewd thoughtfulness passes over the maid's face. She looks down at the remaining chocolates and brings a hand to her chin, speaking slowly, "I can think of no other candidates with such unique tastes. That is, no one other than Ouma Kokichi."

"O-oh?! Well that's just kind of," Shuichi blurts out meaningless words before settling on one response. "I hate Ouma-kun!"

Toujou gives him a stern yet clearly disbelieving stare. It looks like something that belongs on a politician. Sweat starts threatening Shuichi’s skin, pricking at him more and more as time passes. But it's not the kind of lie that Ouma tells. No, honestly, Shuichi just really hates and despises Ouma. The other boy is utterly unpleasant to the point that Shuichi’s heartbeat increases whenever they're within the same area. What can that be- other than aggression? 

Especially wanting to bite him. People don't want to bite their crushes or see them cry. 

Shuichi is bad at lying about this. Perhaps even to the point of being legitimately horrible at it. The idea of admitting his attractions to Ouma sounds like a horrible idea though. One only needs to see how the Ultimate Supreme Leader interacts with others to know why. 

Confessing straightforwardly to someone like Ouma will only result in heartbreak. The Ultimate Detective is certain of that, if nothing else. Hope will not exist within the walls of Hope's Peak Academy should Shuichi go up and confess. So, stalwart, the boy evenly meets the eyes of the young woman that has guided him. 

They've built a special kind of respect while researching, preparing, and enacting today's task. Rather- that's what Shuichi is banking on. 

"You hate him, and so have spent months practicing the art of making chocolate. In order to profess hatred?" the Ultimate Maid states under the guise of a question. 

"Absolutely maybe."

Gold eyes and gray-green slowly gaze at the box, a pregnant since capturing the room. Then it breaks as Toujou smiles softly. 

"I understand now. Please, take this tribute to Ouma-san before he ruins Valentine's Day," she says. There's a split second of shoes clacking as she curtsies, “Save our classmates.”

Bringing the box to his chest and smiling with relief, Shuichi bows wordlessly before fleeing from the awkward approval. He grabs one of the unused chocolates and turns around in one motion. For once, the boy feels as light as air. Today is the day where he baits Ouma into confessing for him. Doing it himself would bore the other boy to death. And there's the fact that Ouma is a person made of tricks. 

He might not even be at the meeting spot, Shuichi knows. So he walks faster and holds his ‘tribute’ tightly. The boy smiles at classmates, underclassmen, and even at Monokuma. 

Nothing will ruin this for him. It's their last year of high school and nothing in the world is allowed to ruin it. Shuichi will get his complex feelings across, or die trying. That's the thinking that pushes him to keep walking. Harukawa wanting a moment? Too busy, sorry. Amami waving? Rejected. 

Creepy clown gang members watching Komaeda get pinned down by a dozen sleeping rabbits-

Gold eyes zero in on the DICE subordinates that seem to be taking notes on Komaeda Luck. Just the same as earlier this month, the detective has no desire to ask. Human experimentation isn't exactly what Ouma is doing…

But there's no way that Shuichi will get involved in it. 

Feet continue to walk and walk until a newly built gazebo comes into view. With it, hanging lavender and young cherry blossom trees. Pure white turned into something duller as well, a familiar figure standing with his arms behind his head. Ouma seems to be watching the plants drift in the breeze. The boy is like a beacon in Shuichi’s mind. 

So, Shuichi picks up the pace until his legs burn. The Ultimate Detective is not at all rushing. He's merely making sure that Ouma can't call him late. Black shoes catch on richly colored masonry and force Shuichi to stumble noisily. 

Fuck, the boy thinks. 

“Oh my gosh… Saihara-chan is only showing up now? You're sooo late, mister Detective of Crocodiles!” Ouma says just before turning around, hands on his hips and an amused grin on his face. 

Then those purple eyes zero in on the box. Ouma goes utterly blank at the sight of a red ribbon tied around tie dye patterns. Shuichi wordlessly stares with an aghast expression. He knows for a fact that Ouma is attracted to bright colors. Months and arguably years have been put into figuring out what Kokichi likes. Relearning the meaning of nuance is a necessity that Shuichi is still doing. 

A sweet scented breeze makes Ouma blink rapidly, and the boy smiles savagely, “This is something that I really never expected from you! Confessing your love to me, an evi-”

“I despise you,” Shuichi says, voice clear. 

Ouma’s face once more goes blank. The atmosphere fills with unsettled confusion as their eyes create a burning contact. Yet Shuichi is far from the boy he was during first year. Hope's Peak has nurtured him into a more confident person. Someone ready to play ball. 

Purple eyes flutter before becoming glassy with wetness, and Ouma’s face twists into something that Shuichi has never seen before. A wobbling specimen of pure and utter heartbreak. Those pale cheeks both flush and pale on order to become blotchy. Lips grow tense and down turned, pushing together, Ouma's fists clenching just the same. It all looks so genuine that Shuichi’s heart skips a beat. He panics inside of himself as tears pool in reddening eyes. Shuichi himself can't look away. 

“Wait just a second,” the boy croaks, golden eyes wide with alarm. 

It all ceases just as the Ultimate Detective's hands start to loosen their grip. No crying starts. Ouma’s sincere anguish vanishes as smug excitement takes over. 

Robust laughter bursts from the other boy and he huffs, voice weaving in and out of tones, “Saihara-chan is being so transparent right now! Nishishi, you can't even handle my tears. Or maybe… Detective Conan wants to see me cry?! How despicable.”

Shuichi forces himself to stare calmly. In the moments after the laughter, the boy makes a single decision. 

He stays quiet. 

There's one particular truth to this scenario. Saihara Shuichi and Ouma Kokichi are enemies. Allowing the later to get bored isn't allowed. Which means that Shuichi’s gift must be enticing. Mysterious and coy. 

Curiosity fills Ouma’s eyes as the boy starts circling Shuichi’s person. He snickers at odd times, but Shuichi doesn't react. 

“Big boxes like that must be for a special person. Saihara-chan isn't a girl at all though, so unless you like a boy,” he says, eyes narrow like knives. “You shouldn't have asked to meet me here. This is a couple hangout too. Just give me my candy and go.”

A reminder leaves Shuichi’s lips, “But I really hate you. Why else would I be here?”

Purple eyes widen with innocent confusion. Yet neither of them can relent. They continue to dance with one another in a playing field of assertions. Ouma even starts to make inappropriate implications too, causing composure to break down. Shuichi himself has no idea why anyone would put laxatives inside of chocolates. Right up until he remembers a certain kimono wearing girl. 

“There's no reason to bother hiding it! A box like that obviously doesn't have obligation chocolates in it, and Saihara-chan hasn't been seen all day. Being secretive, Mother being MIA, Saihara-chan is a bad liar!” Ouma hisses while growing even closer. Right into the box itself. 

“You like me, so why aren't you saying it all boring and honest like? I'm obviously going to return your feelings!”

Ouma pauses. This is the first time that Shuichi has seen him looking truly frazzled. Again, those eyes blink rapidly as the Ultimate Supreme Leader processes his own words. Seconds pass before all that irritation melts into astonishment. 

Astonishment that morphs into purple slivers of judgment, “Saihara-chan just baited me into entertainment and a confession.”

“Y...yes, I did.”

“To provide evidence that you won't bore me.”

“Did it work or-”

“Shut up and give me those chocolates or,” Ouma purrs almost salaciously, “My boyfriend will have to admit that he thinks my tears are adorable.”

Gold eyes bulge out from Shuichi’s head just as the box is victoriously ripped aware from him. The boy wheezes, “I- no way! Wait a second there, here, look! Ouma-kun's t-tears aren't cute at a-all and I most certainly do not enjoyable the… I hate you! Give me the chocolates back-”

Raspberry Ganache gets shoved between Shuichi’s lips, and the boy can only try to swallow down the heat in his face as Ouma's voice teases him for the rest of the day. 

Especially when the other boy realizes that Shuichi gets even more embarrassed by compliments.


	3. NSFW, Saioumota, BDSM and piss kink.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi has a piss kink and a rather specific fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of mixed insults and praise bc I love that... A mutual on Twitter requested this and we both like piss kink so. Yeet ewe. 
> 
> This is saioumota where Shuichi relaxes but being a big God Damn Slutty Sub for his boyfriends after hard days of work and college. I'm talking about straight up being their 'toy', with stuff from cock warming for hours to free use of his ass whenever they want. Dildo gags, huge sounding rods because why not finger your toy's dick someday, calling Shuichi a fleshlight... And stuffing him full of huge anal sex toys. Probably having him crawl around on the floor, I don't know what these guys get up to, honestly. 
> 
> But like. Lovingly. 
> 
> To be exact with the piss: we are talking about Kaito pissing in Shuichi’s mouth and Kokichi pissing in his ass. Degeneracy hours.
> 
> If you want to read but don't like reading the actual pee, the pee starts at ("Well, if Kaito-chan would do us the honors then...")

"You really sure that this is alright, partner?" Kaito asks as he carefully removes the dildo gag from Shuichi’s drooling mouth. 

Silicone slowly glides out of him, and the man pants while his throat flutters from the loss. Mauve eyes stare down at him with concern still lurking inside. Being unable to look away from them makes something inside of Shuichi melt. 

A loud smack makes the bare flesh of Shuichi’s ass jiggle, disturbing the plug inside, and the detective squeaks breathlessly at the sting. His other lover continues to spank him without a hint of mercy. Each microsecond fills the air with skin on skin. The growing heat forces words out of Shuichi’s mind. Gold eyes glaze over before the detective opens his mouth. More saliva floods down his chin just as a glistening tongue reveals itself. Shuichi himself just pants and stares upwards, tears budding at the sound of fond laughter. 

Kokichi gives one last open handed swat to the large expanse of skin in front of him. He snickers too, and nothing can else can make Shuichi’s shiver quite as easily. Well groomed fingernails dig into stinging flesh that presses right back. It forces a shaky moan from Shuichi’s still presented mouth.

"For someone that always talks about doing the impossible... Momota-chan really likes doubting his ability to fulfill our beloved, disgusting, adorable Shumai's fantasy!" Kokichi soon croons, patting at the warm places that he's just finished attacking. 

Shuichi only breathes harder and shakes his ass as enticement. He doesn't try to resist the mix of praise and degeneration. Not like he usually does, no- the detective has already given up his right to deny it. Wearing this collar around his neck and nothing more than cuffs serve as proof, even if temporary. Attempting this another way isn't workable in the end. Unable to talk and not being expected to unless it's needed...

Embarrassment isn't even a fraction of what Shuichi would be otherwise be feeling. 

The astronaut in the room growls, "Look, I'm not going to get up and ditch. What the hell are you calling me that for?" 

"Geeeee, maybe it's because you're acting like we're all dumbass teens instead of college students," is Kokichi's grumble, and Shuichi can mentally see the head tilt.

If Shuichi’s boyfriends start arguing instead of using him, like all of them agreed on, then he's going to just- Shuichi will pin them down and make them do it anyway. There's no way that the man will accept this. Having to wait while Kokichi and Kaito have discourse is always hell. Likely because Shuichi finds the heated conversations attractive. 

He blames Kokichi for the association with making out afterwards.

Whining as loudly as possible, Shuichi stares up at Kaito like a wounded animal. The man rocks his body back and forth between them. Kokichi's hands wrap around his hips and grip down hard enough to hurt. Good, wonderful, and gold eyes fog up as his lover's penises twitch. The one in front of him and the one rubbing against his ass. 

It's unfortunate that urination is difficult while erect. 

The detective quivers inside at the thought of it. After all this time, he's getting to have his most degenerate fantasy fulfilled. 

Eyes full of desperate yearning pierce through Kaito's own. Slowly, the other man gulps and unzips his pants. Being able to finally see Shuichi’s prize for being a good boy is relieving. He's finally getting to experience this after months of slowly approaching it. To think that Kokichi would see it as something worth celebrating. Speaking as though Shuichi is brave for sharing. Perhaps the other man isn't wrong. 

Maybe Shuichi’s shivering and hunger filled moaning is from growing self-confidence.

Kokichi hums happily while groping sensitive flesh, "Shuichi says he wants that monster cock of yours to fill him up. You'll be good to our precious fleshlight, right? Poor thing tries so even when we stuff it to the breaking point.”

Fluttering eyelashes frame growing wetness before Shuichi’s voice raises into a yell. Nimble fingers tease his hole, and then his cock, soft skin circling around like feathers. Kokichi settles on rubbing at Shuichi’s urethra and the thick sounding rod inside. 

"Big and muscular Kaito-chan is such a wimp... Even though he's so possessive too," Kokichi breathes. Heat picks up as pale fingers grip the sound and gently move it around. "Isn't Kaito-chan the one that agreed with me? How fun it'll be to finger all of our love-toy's fuckholes? You should be jumping for joy!"

One pump of the rod has Shuichi’s knees quaking. More, and the man's breathing becomes senseless whining. 

Another chuckle fills the air, and Kokichi's hand returns to the plug, "Kaito-chan must be the type to secretly dream about pissing all over us. Marking his territory, riiiight? Only we're going to fill Shuichi up because it's such a nasty whore. Simplicity!" 

Mauve eyes dilate just before Kaito looks away from Kokichi's face. The other man looks much less conflicted now. Obviously out of his depth and yet not uncertain. Shuichi whimpers while opening his mouth wider in response. He wonders if Kokichi might be right. That Kaito might like this same manner of shameful thing.

Tongue out, Shuichi watches as his boyfriend's hand grabs at a mostly soft penis. All the more intimidating veins are currently at rest as well. Both size, thickness, and the shape of Kaito's cock are frightening. When Shuichi first saw it, he almost screamed. Fear isn't quite what Shuichi has ever felt for it though. Of course the man doesn't fear his boyfriend's body. His nerves back then were just high-strung, but there's no fear.

Not Kaito anyway. Kokichi though, well... 

Kokichi is even bigger. 

The detective freely allows drool to pool in his mouth. Pleading wordlessly while watching the flaccid length near his lips, it's all Shuichi has to do. 

It almost feels like being drunk in a way. Shuichi’s tongue and mouth both eagerly welcome that familiar cock. Hints of salty sweat rub against him, smooth skin and warmth filling the man's mouth. The detective instinctively swallows before adjusting himself. Belly down on the wooden breakfast bench that Kokichi likes isn't expected. Just a willing toy getting a reward for good service. Like this, the man doesn't have to be ashamed at all. 

Finger tips full of obscene intent take hold of the buttplug in Shuichi’s asshole.

Kokichi laughs at the way Kaito hisses, "Looks like Kaito-chan is finally getting over his nerves. Was it me or the way that the hole in front of you has been begging?" 

Grunting, Kaito finally bottoms out inside of Shuichi’s mouth. The man gently caresses the skin with his tongue, and he sighs happily as the plug in his ass is slowly pumped in and out. His eyes begin to close half way. Shuichi still can't look away from his boyfriend's gaze though. Whether they're staring at Kokichi down or looking at him with so much affection that Shuichi grows warm. 

He wants those eyes to look cruel one day, the way that Kokichi can when needed. When asked for while Shuichi is presenting himself. Kaito is wonderful as a foil to other mannerisms. 

Shuichi just craves the hints of impassioned sternness that Kaito occasionally excludes. 

Pale fingers release the stem of the plug and quickly push it back inside. It's a sudden kind of movement that happens right before those same fingers press into slick flesh. Kokichi kneads and rubs at lube covered softness, a massage that makes Shuichi's sphincter relax. His cock throbs from both that and the sounding rod filling it up. 

"Shut up already. There's nothing wrong with double checking. We- we don't want to break our toy..." the other man's voice grows deeper. Just as Shuichi sees his pupils dilate, feels his cock get bigger, and one large hand cups the side of his head. 

The intimacy is like a persuasive smoke that lingers. Filling up Shuichi’s mind with a subtle flavor of euphoria. His stomach twists at the prospect of more. So much more, of this strange waiting stage and the words colored with a mix of praise and insult. It's like a fine chocolate or wine being given over to him. A way to resist craving it doesn't exist inside Shuichi’s mind. 

All he wants to do is continue this total submission. Remaining a toy, taking in the scent of Kaito's body while-

"Hhhmmhie?!" Shuichi squeals, wide eyes rolling back as the thing inside of him pounds into his prostate. He arches into the feeling of it as his cock throbs from the inside out. "Kkuuhkihhhie!"

Mocking laughter accompanies jolts of pleasure. They both rattle around inside of the detective's head like bullets on metal. Sharp like pinpricks. Unable to stop, and not wanting to, Shuichi’s ass jiggles again as he thrusts himself back. It feels like he's nothing but a lowly animal in heat. But no, that's speaking too highly of his station, the man is nothing but a fun toy. A doll-like sex object made to be fucked even when it's unconscious. The thought makes him moan around the cock resting in his throat. 

He's not even an animal. Just a toy. Moving and slurping and clenching, but only according to programing. 

Shuichi’s only responsibility is to tell his owners if he's breaking or malfunctioning. Which is why he can't even think about complaining when Kokichi stops moving the plug. All he does is swallow around Kaito's mostly flaccid cock. 

“Push it out. Show your owners how loose we've made you and push the plug out. Like a good little onahole!” Kokichi demands while swatting at the ass in front of him. 

Whimpers vibrate deep inside of Shuichi’s throat. 

Kaito flushes even more than before, lips pouting. The astronaut glances from Shuichi’s drooling mouth to Kokichi. Mauve eyes squint as Kaito grumbles, “That's… now you're just being an asshole. Make him do that when I can see it instead.”

It seems like Kokichi won't relent for a moment. 

“You just don't want to get hard while you need to piss,” the man accuses, a grin surely on his face. Shudders run throughout Shuichi’s body as the plug slowly slips out of him. He can't help himself, suckling on the thick organ inside of his mouth while Kokichi speaks, “But oh well! I guess it's time to use our private urinal, hm?”

Careful pats to the small of Shuichi’s back make him roll his hips into them. He allows his eyes to finally shut. Then, the man listens to a familiar snap- that of a bottle opening. Shuichi can't hold back from shivering and trembling anymore. All these months, full of things that might have made them all shocked before, have led to this. 

Years after high school have added up into this moment. Discovering matching predilections for decidedly lewd things… and acting on them too. Having days where Shuichi wears nothing but a shirt at most, something vibrating inside of him while at his lover's mercies. Sitting between Kokichi's knees at warming his cock for hours after detective work. Cumming profusely when Kaito finally joins in- there's nothing better than this feeling of high-strung relaxation. 

The memory of Kaito getting involved for the first time will always be all it takes for Shuichi to cum. Of a skirt being lifted and a hand grabbing him. 

“Mmm, pushing out just the way I trained,” and slick fingers make a mess inside of of the detective's ass. Kokichi snickers, most likely grinning, “Just as usual, our professional cumdump’s cock is all red and weepy. But this hole here is far more noticeable! Maybe I should take another progress picture before I fuck it. Oh well.”

It's undeniably true that Shuichi is going insane now. Those fingers are cruel, constantly rubbing and massaging while avoiding the best spots. Gliding around the man's walls but never touching his sensitive prostate. 

Shuichi struggles to stay afloat as his insides are tortured. All the heat is making the man's mind melt. The sounding rod reaching deep inside, Kaito's hands on his head and cock in his mouth, Kokichi using gentleness as a weapon; Shuichi’s mind is growing empty. He's starting to disappear from himself even earlier than usual. 

Finally, those taunting fingers leave. In their place remains unending throbbing, need radiating out from Shuichi’s core. The sensation thumps over and over while his head spins. Calling for more while the man's rim winks. A provocation, or so Kokichi would call it, because Shuichi’s role is that of a very good toy. Made well enough to know just how to please people. 

He has been so very good this whole time. So very eager and wanton as his unexpected boyfriends slowly remade him into this. More, Shuichi tries to beg around the slightly engorged organ in his mouth. 

Ruin me more, fuck me up until my body can never go back to normal-

Just a few seconds pass before the head of Kokichi's penis rubs against sensitive skin. Shuichi forces himself still and breathes deeply through his nose, rim twitching, happily nuzzling pubic hair. His sphincter relaxes even further while he continues pushing out. Kokichi's penis isn't too hard right now, but that just means that the stretch will be easier. Each time Shuichi’s ass takes this dick is one where he has to do so much prep. A tool this big is always hard to handle. 

But it's much easier these days.

Kokichi slowly pushes himself inside with encouraging murmurs, "Keep on doing just that Shumai, doing so well, just the way we taught you to. Trying to pull me in like the cute little thing you are, mmm?" 

Gold eyes open into blurry slivers of contentment. Shuichi sees a hint of smile on Kaito's face, and a large hand rubs his head. There's the feeling of something thick and long after a long moment of waiting. Deep inside of him, with Kokichi's pelvis bumping against the detective's ass.

There's still the slightest ache as it rests within him. Shuichi breathes heavily through his nose and closes his eyes again. He doesn't need the interference of sight. All the man wants is to feel, and to get swept away again. Both of his lovers rub at his energized body while they wait. Of course, Shuichi doesn't know what they're waiting for.

"Hhhm-ph. Mmm," he hums, heart thumping like the rest of him. A hand and a laugh flow near him. Shuichi huffs but stays still, fidgeting against wood when Kokichi grabs his cock. Everything down there is at the melting point of pleasure- and Shuichi almost forgot about the sounding rod. 

Just like any single minded toy would.

"Well, if Kaito-chan would do us the honors then..." a snicker fills the air. "Can't piss if we get hard."

A sigh followed by a grunt follows. One of the larger hands brushes Shuichi’s hair back as Kaito grumbles, "The hell is your problem today? Trying to make me go first like you didn't chug gallons of water. Don't give me that look either!" 

Kokichi idly pumps the rod in and out, making Shuichi mewl and making Kaito curse. It reaches so deep that the detective wants to scream. He craves more of it too. Needs to ask for something even thicker soon. But his tongue can feel enough twitches and throbs that Shuichi’s mind grows blissfully silent. Eyes full of love-haze flicker open to see darkened mauve. Shuichi can only pray that his boyfriend understands how hard he's pleading. 

"People like Kaito-chan are a possessive type in the end. They want to share first-times and be able to have that kind of knowledge. I know better than anyone else! Since I'm the same," Kokichi laughs at the end, gripping spanked red flesh.

Liquid warmth bursts into Shuichi's oral cavity- and it's a salty yet bland kind of fluid. The mere fact of it makes the man's knees grow weak. He allows it to fill him up before starting to swallow on instinct. Kaito, his Kaito, owner; and Shuichi’s brain short circuits while he almost chokes from the amount of fresh piss being emptied into him. Everything is narrowing into just that sensation of heat. 

“You want the same things that I do, that our darling wants, and it's to turn Shuichi into nothing more than a collection of cute holes to fuck so that eeeach bit of stress can fade away.”

It's a mere whisper that invades the man's ears. Alongside the sound of his own frenzied gulping, his moans. Kokichi's voice makes Shuichi writhe and squirming. He continues to drink each drop that Kaito gives him though. Even when the stream hits the back of his throat like a brand. There's a rough groan and the other man's lips stretch into a tired grin. Just the look at glinting eyes throws Shuichi off, making him whimper just a bit. 

Exactly like this, during these times, Shuichi wants to stay as a toy forever. Times of unthinking and uselessly wanton existence- but never stopping. He always wants to stay this lovingly degraded in the heat of the moment. 

"I think that you should start yourself then," the astronaut eventually points out, not denying anything about it. 

More laughter and then-

Shivering, already blurred eyesight fades completely as Shuichi’s body tries to tell him about something. Hot and more sudden than Kaito. Perhaps even to the point of being scalding, and the detective can't do anything but try to tighten up. It doesn't seem to work though. Shuichi still tries and desperately hopes to keep in all of Kokichi's reward for him. 

All that exists for him is heat and swallowing. Nothing but hands rubbing him, voices soothing or mocking him, and Shuichi’s mindless body accepting everything given to it. Fluids trickling and fluids rushing. He's a special kind of toy right now. Very special… 

He's the only kind of toy that Kokichi and Kaito need. The not new realization makes Shuichi laugh as he sucks on Kaito's cock, that bland saltiness now an aftertaste. He preens at each late droplet that meets his tongue. More than that is how Kokichi is still going. At the same time, the man has to pull away in order to breathe properly. Fresh oxygen fills his lungs just before Shuichi’s face drops towards the bench. 

"Th.. Thhh-thank you," the man gasps into varnished wood, mouth stuck open as saliva and beads of urine escape despite his best efforts. 

But Shuichi can't be done with this just yet. He tries to go back for more and gets his hair pulled by Kokichi instead.

Kokichi croons mockingly, “Getting to drown in piss, high quality or not, isn't what I had in mind for you. We can fill the bathtub some other time!” 

“Athtub’?”

“Yeah, my poor partner has totally lost it.”

Careful laughter bubbles out of Shuichi’s throat while his mind floats elsewhere. He's distantly aware of Kaito petting under his chin with something wet. The way that Kokichi's fingers grip his hair like they would bundles of string. Dolls get unraveled all the time. No harm in remaking them, Shuichi knows. Especially not when that means getting such a fantasy turned into reality. 

“Pretty please explain why I'm not your partner too?”

So warm. It's just so warm. 

God, Shuichi wheezes, Kokichi is going to make him start hurting if he doesn't cum yet. 

“W-well that's because you're my nemesis. A hero like me needs a good… freinelovamy,” comes Kaito's response, wet wipe cleaning Shuichi’s slack mouth. He calmly allows incessant licking. 

“It pheelsh like I'm gunna die from Kohkishi treating me like uh-” 

Fingers tipped with sharp nails yank at teal hair, and Shuichi’s words turn into aimless begging for the right to cum. Kokichi merely hums approvingly at him. The man must be sneering right now. It's all that Shuichi can imagine as more and more piss makes his insides feel strange. Uncomfortable, but so very good in all respects. Giggles fall from the detective while the rest of him falls limp. 

An almost cruel grip squeezes down on the man's cock, and Kokichi languidly asks, “What are well made toys supposed to say?”

Nothing, and so Shuichi’s wide open mouth only makes the slutty whines that toys should. 

The flow starts to die down after that, and Kokichi sighs as satisfaction surely fills him. It's wonderful to hear just how pleasing Shuichi is. Kokichi mutters orders for his toy to follow. Tight up. Make sure not to spill this, you piss addicted bitch. Shuichi’s cock throbs desperately with each word. Everything inside of him is raging around like an inferno. He's going to cum, he will, but for now the man only clenches tight around Kokichi's shaft. 

Some trickles escape him as the other man pulls out. Hot and running down plush thighs. Gold eyes stare emptily, even when Kaito leans down and kisses Shuichi, too glazed over for anything else. A slick muscle brings a minty taste with it. Kaito's tongue gets free range for pillaging. It twists around inside of Shuichi’s placid mouth, receiving slow yet fervent kitten licks in return. 

“That's so unfair! I wanted to taste Kaito-chan inside of Shuichi’s mouth. Stop having character development,” Kokichi mockingly scolds them, slapping Shuichi’s ass as a warning. The man forces himself to break away just before pale hands grab his face. 

Kaito just chuckles and stands up again, zipping his pants up before grabbing the cleaning supplies on the counter. 

Purple eyes narrow and pink lips leer, “You're totally fucking disgusting, aren't you? But it's so adorable that I keep wanting to make Shumai even more of a repulsive degenerate. Hey, hey, while we walk to the shower… I'll definitely flog you if the floor gets dirty.”

“He's just going to get floor dirty on purpose,” Kaito points out wryly. "You should take the rod out too. A guy has to cum sooner or later."

“And you'll clean it! Also, no.”

Shuichi allows pale fingers to slip inside of his mouth and gags contently around them. He groans when Kokichi teases his tongue, feeling the muscle tingle at each stroke. Then, like a good toy- the haze filled man smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff got stalled due to a health emergency, but I'm getting back into the writing mood ewe


	4. NSFW, Saiou, Tokyo Ghoul au 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to the first chapter but with new kink involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ches mentioned wanting this and I really needed to write something kinky freaky... Fucky cute? 
> 
> Cannibalism, Kokichi lacking legs due to them getting attacked, and some lowkey strength kink plus other stuff like over stimulation and masochism. All consensual and etc. Bit angsty in the beginning because Ghoulkichi is himself. 
> 
> I'm almost done a few other requests too. Just needed some ghoul au to Jumpstart my Engine. 😤

Up until recently, Kokichi just hasn't been going outside. The ghoul is fully embracing his nature as a coward. What's the point of going out after everything- that's his thought process. It's only with Saihara's strange hospitality and encouragement that anything like a trip out happened. And from now on he's never going to go outside ever again. Saihara's apartment will be his only habitat for the rest of his life. 

What's eight more months of only getting fresh air via balcony? 

"Fuck I hate them and I'm glad they're dead, Holy shit," Kokichi grits breathlessly, grimacing and sneering while rocking back and forth in Saihara's arms. "What even is your reputation when people try to chop off your legs?! I'm going to sue you for this-" 

Saihara shifts and one of his hands settles a little too close to Kokichi's ass. Not that the boy minds some groping action. Of course, acceptable groping action isn't happening when Kokichi's legs have been sliced off. Bikaku ghouls are always so stupid. Kokichi knows that quite well due to being one.

A small cough, "Well... I do kind of own this general territory. It's not much but stragglers like that see me and make assumptions, so that can happen. I'm sorry about your legs though!" 

Kokichi groans at how pure and sincere the half-ghoul sounds. It almost makes him grow flushed. 

Ever since that first feeding, ever since his teeth bit into Saihara's flesh, there's been a steady rise in feelings. It's only to be expected when the other boy is aroused by Kokichi eating him. Whether these emotions are just sexual or romantic can't be determined yet. Still, it's probably a combination of both. The simple truth is that both of them admired one another to begin with.

"Don't assume I'm only upset with you," the ghoul mutters. 

It's definitely true that Saihara should have known that they were going to be attacked. Kokichi himself still isn't recovered from how he's treated himself. Even if Saihara is delicious and nutritionally, well. Hunger boils away at the ghoul's stomach while his legs pulse with itchy pain. The fact that the people running the apartment are all ghouls is very nice.

His back is still itching from the run home. 

Purple eyes close while Saihara kicks open the stairwell door. The apartment is definitely becoming home to him.

Getting into the apartment only takes five more minutes at most. It's nerve-wracking to imagine that a human neighbor might see them. Or worse, one of the other ghouls. But Saihara doesn't seem to flinch at the thought. He rushes through the hallway and carries Kokichi with just one hand when it comes time to get inside. Not even all of the eating that the ghoul has done have returned him to that much strength. He's honestly just as pathetic as before. 

Without DICE, he really is a useless weakling. A miracle is what this life of his is- that Saihara puts up with him like this. Saihara…

Handfuls of seconds pass before Kokichi is gently placed onto the couch, the jacket covering him being ripped away as Saihara hurriedly checks his legs. Or maybe stumps would be more accurate. Both of them are surreal to look at.

"Thank you," Saihara whispers with an innocent kind of concern in each speck of his body language. The half-ghoul kneels down and gently takes hold of one leg. 

Not that there's much left of either one. They've both been sliced off at the start of upper thigh, or that's what Kokichi thinks. Below his pelvis and above the knee. The boy might have bled out if not for Saihara shoving his fingers inside of Kokichi's mouth and forcing him to eat. Even then, Kokichi feels loopy and his legs aren't healing up well. Makeshift tourniquets aren't going to save him from that. 

But that's not why he's biting his lip and blushing. 

"Cauterize them. I'll still heal eventually and you'll get to not have me bleed everywhere," Kokichi says as blandly as everywhere. "So anyway, that thank you isn't useful. I just happened to panic and get in the way." 

Golden eyes burn as though molten when they pierce into him.

Eleven minutes later and Saihara's heart, bleeding out through his unfair eyes, isn't the only thing that registers as molten. Kokichi has regretted far more important things in his life. He's had much worse happen to him, since childhood. Yet the feeling of Saihara cauterizing that still weeping wound is so agonizing that Kokichi's entire body feels numb. 

He's not even sure if that's how it's supposed to work. All the ghoul understands is that he's screaming into some object, a gag, eyesight blacking out from pain. The scent of his own flesh is absolutely putrid in how strong it is. Kokichi's hands are pale knots around textureless fabric. It feels like he's dying. 

But then it's over and Saihara is looking down at him with so much distress that Kokichi can't help himself. He tries so hard to smile when the gag is pulled from his mouth. 

All the ghoul manages is becoming unconscious.

Dreaming is a short and sweet affair after that. It's a confusing and nonsense slice of domestic life. Kokichi is back home, in his own territory with DICE, except for Saihara being there too. Everyone is laughing playfully and helping Saihara cook for a bake sale. The treats taste disgusting for the full ghouls involved, but the two human members of DICE and Saihara love them. Just that alone fills Kokichi with pride. 

It's a lie. 

Purple eyes flutter open while stinging.

"Saihara..." Kokichi murmurs listlessly, lips smacking together while an odd taste lingers on the back of his tongue. It's almost like fear or stress despite how delicious it is. His eyes squint together before both hands rush towards the rough skin, but it's not burnt feeling at all. 

Kokichi breathes in harshly and glances around to find Saihara. The smell of cooked human meat barely masks that of burnt ghoul and spilt blood. Even so, the sight of a sleeping Saihara Shuichi reveals what happened. Nothing can hide how his left arm is absolutely devoured from the elbow down.

Zero memories of eating are popping up. Yet the truth is undeniably right in front of Kokichi. On the antique armchair that Saihara adores, the other boy is resting with an empty bowl on the small table next to him. It's insane to consider doing something like that with no memory, but Kokichi can't say it'd be the first time. Dread comes to an instant boil inside of his chest. Saihara would have little problem turning the ghoul into a smear... 

Trembling and immobile, Kokichi understands that the half-ghoul might not even try to stop him.

It takes ten painful minutes for Saihara to wake up. That time is spent on worthless reminiscing, and Kokichi can't help but find some of it sweet. Saihara is his proof of concept- that the world he's dreamt of can happen. He's grateful just for that alone. At times he thinks that everything leading up to this happened for a reason, as bitter and self-loathing filled as the idea makes him feels. Kokichi has never thought that all things happen for reasons. 

But the half-ghoul in front of him, eyelashes dipped against pale cheeks, is possible evidence of something like providence. 

Certainly nothing divine, but there's never been anything like that in Kokichi's life. Merely a sweet collection of fight lurking in the bones of his haphazard family.

Yet there's a strange if not rare sentiment that whispers itself around and around. Deep inside of Kokichi's mind, and nevertheless a sly insinuation that helps keep his frustrated tears at bay. Saihara is almost like a statue carved by God. 

What better a cruelty than something like that? Kokichi can't think of anything worse than having everything ripped apart and waking up inside of some closed off and outrageously kind place. 

Even now, he's still insanely jealous of everything that Saihara is. 

But the ghoul, lost in thought while his eyes watch Saihara stir, can't deny that there's a type of love between them. It aches from start to finish to acknowledge it. He's never been able to stand lying to himself though. There's a reason why he made the conscious decision to jump in front of Saihara's open target body. 

Not that the half-ghoul is allowed to know.

Saihara looks at peace when he wakes up. That's an often consistent thing that Kokichi sees each morning, but the other boy looks especially content right now. Maybe his mind is still stuck in his dreams during those first ten minutes of a new day. Kokichi looks away and subtly rubs his eyes clear while resting a hand on his forehead. Of course his thoughts and feelings have to stay complicated. Pure simplicity doesn't often make a friend of him. 

"Ouma-kun was really honesty last night, but if he doesn't remember..." Saihara murmurs a little while later, familiar worry tinged with curiosity as he pours them both coffee. It smells rich and full-bodied to the point of Kokichi salivating. "You asked me for food but got upset when I offered you human meat. It ah, well- I ended up offering you my whole arm and you haggled with me."

Hearing that is definitely reassuring. Or it would be of Kokichi could fully believe it. Saihara's eyes are looking aside just a bit too much, and his face is all around screaming about white lies or skewing the truth.

Kokichi makes the executive decision to not prod at it. The ghoul is pretty much certain as to what actually happened anyway. At least, he can say that he suspects.

The rest of the day is dedicated to Saihara caring for him. It's not an unfamiliar feeling even if it's been many months since such treatment was necessary. Saihara carries him around with a strange aura of respect. Even when the ghoul compares him to a horse. Only as an ironic joke though, what with Kokichi's family name. Draining is one way to put in in the end. Also, completely and utterly embarrassing is another.

Considering how important your legs are isn't exactly a daily activity most people indulge in. Neither is how boring the legless life can be. Except that Kokichi has to deal with watching the same five channels after Saihara's arm regenerates, because that means he goes back to work and classes. Kokichi is only about an inch healed by then. 

It's boring. 

Absolutely boring. He feels even more useless than before. 

The ghoul just wishes that he'd left the house sooner. Maybe their date would have ended with a kiss instead of possibly fatal injuries. Kokichi isn't even sure if his legs will heal right. He's no Rinkaku with an edge on swift regeneration and he barely eats even now.

If there is one genuinely kind of fun thing to come of this though... Kokichi would have to pin it as how humiliatingly great it feels when Saihara cuddles with him at night. Stupid, obviously, but so is the fact that they started sleeping in the same bed in the first place. There's still just something about having someone wrap their entire body around you. Warmth from snuggling is already great. 

He misses that- the feeling of closeness from someone that cares about you. DICE and that too small apartment has made Kokichi dependant on at least some level of skinship. 

Sure, Saihara is an entirely different kind of closeness. The half-ghoul provides a kind of intimacy that is most certainly the opposite of platonic. There's no running down the halls with slippers squeaking and heart pumping from play fighting. Neither of them are running around town after painting masterpieces made of graffiti or yarn. Bringing cheer to people lost in factual dismay isn't what Kokichi does anymore. He has long since given that up.

But it's something and Kokichi clings to the care in it. Even if Saihara has a strange and incomprehensible kink for being eaten. Not that the ghoul minds how his housemate gets over each bite. Kokichi is pretty sure that he'd hate eating Saihara if not for that. 

Right now he just hates how the other boy is constantly trying to get him to eat more. At the same time, eating more will help him heal faster. 

Which is why they're staring each other down in the bathtub.

"You better just be giving me a few bites of your arm," Kokichi mutters after a few more moments of silence. He snorts at the nervous concern on Saihara's face. "Just two guys about to- Nevermind."

Uncomfortable glances are shared between them, and Saihara frowns before looking away. It seems like he's already a bit into it. Of course he'd be antsy about whatever he's about to offer. There's no reason for him to take Kokichi into the bathtub. Not unless the half-ghoul thinks that there's going to be a lot of blood. 

Although the soft towels below them put a damper on that. 

Kokichi's eyes narrow, "Saihara-chan wouldn't dare to dream of his first time with me... Being in his bathtub. Right? I may not have a secret organization anymore, but I can still get you assassinated." 

By myself, the ghoul inwardly threatens.

"Mm-muwh?! No, that's not what my intentions are at all! Ouma-kun is misunderstanding, wait, yes I just wanted to let you eat me," Saihara innocently blabbers as his red face twists with panic. The half-ghoul wheezes and tries to hide how his barely there erection twitches. 

It's always been something of an interesting phenomenon. Saihara swears up and down that he's never had a sexual interest in things like that before. The man is a fan of Dangan Ronpa, but that's gone from something unspoken of in polite society to everyone's favorite topic in less than fifty years. A far cry from the video game series that it started as a century ago- a rallying cry for hypocrisy and-

Gulping down the ants in his chest, Kokichi focuses on how Saihara's lips wobble. 

Cute is a word that the ghoul finds himself using often. Beautiful too, but there's no casual admitting happening there either. Yet it all relates to one singular and final topic in the end. 

"How does Saihara-chan see me? Do you just want to have a ruined visionary as a doll to care for?" Kokichi asks as he leans on the bathtub rim.

"No," instantly comes a wounded murmur, the other boy deflating. Gold eyes stare into purple as though captured. A nervous kind of smile takes hold before Saihara responds. 

Saihara's voice is light and airy, confident, "I've said it before you know. Ouma-kun is admirable. Before this, you were controling almost an entire ward in the name of coexist. That's something you started while I was busy with high school entrance exams! And it was really working too, but..."

“I lost.”

Everything is lost now and Kokichi has no right to reclaim it. He's bitter, but in the end there was never a doubt that DICE had to be self-sufficient. Saihara tells him that the little slice of idealism is surviving. That's more than enough for the ghoul to be satisfied with. Nothing important should die alongside him. 

"Jeez, Shumai is really naive in the end then. You're the one that's in college and pays rent! Shouldn't you mock me for being a parasite? What a man child," the ghoul grouses while trying to hide his mouth. 

Red lingers on Saihara's face. He gets onto his knees and moves closer, quickly wrapping his arms around the ghoul. Or he at least tries to provide a hug. 

"O-ouma-kun! That's painful!"

"Don't act like I'm a baby and I won't twist a nipple. I'm legless, not a tearful angel that needs love."

Yet his face still ends up in the crook of Saihara's neck.

Saihara shivers as Kokichi pulls himself closer, breath heavy when lips touch his neck. The half-ghoul is so honest that it's sad. "So... Aren't you hungry? Ouma-kun needs to eat more than before too. Once or twice a month isn't enough right now- ah. W-wait!"

"You have to understand that I don't just admire y-" the words cease in favor of gasping moans, whimpers full of frustration and wholehearted pleasure. Wet noises join them as Kokichi bites into hot flesh. Saihara's meat is delicious as always. "Pl- pleaa... Ah!" 

Kokichi knows exactly what his housemate wants to say. He thinks he does anyway, he wants to hear it too, but the thought scares him just as much. If those words come out then the ghoul won't be able to ignore them. Coffee and rain assault his tongue with an undercurrent of something spiced. The boy swallows down blood and runs his tongue against the almost separated chunk of flesh he's carved out. 

Pale skin like theirs always makes blood pop out. It's almost like seeing a canvas with only red paint, specifically designed to evoke something primal.

The fact is something morbid that Saihara is probably turned on by.

"Let me, let me s-say it please," but Saihara's back arches as Kokichi rips away his morsel. That voice raises in pitch when lips attach themselves to the wound. Saihara is straining but pulling the ghoul closer with each lick. 

Nothing can obscure how hard the other boy is anymore. Kokichi's thighs are making sure of that. Helping Saihara reach isn't what usually happens, but the feeling of damp fabric and rigid flesh is good. It makes the ghoul feel just as heated as the skin of his legs. Getting himself to ignore the odd pride of it is impossible.

"Ahhh, don't stop eating but, oh God," Saihara whispers, hands clenching down on Kokichi's shoulder without a hint of nail. "I love you..."

"Fuck, you just want me to get hard. Saihara-chan just wants to pick me up and bounce me on his dick, that's so gross, Shumai is absolutely horrid!" the ghoul accuses instead of letting himself melt. 

He doesn't want to weather this rush of heat. Yet Kokichi feels himself sitting down on the bulge in Saihara's lap, and the groan he earns is intoxicating. That nickname slip is far too appropriate. Saihara's skin is the exact same way that the half-ghoul makes those little dumplings seem. Easy to bite into, hiding delicious flavors, and soft. One of Kokichi's hands flies down to the elastic band of the other boy's underwear. 

It's so simple to set Saihara's cock free, and the favor is returned soon enough. Kokichi's briefs get tossed far away from them. Moments pass as they look at each other, pent up feelings boiling over, and then the taste of blood is being diluted. A kiss like this must be the most obscene that Kokichi has ever heard of. He's glad that Saihara has kissed him before, more purely. 

"Ghouls taste awful to other ghouls," Kokichi firmly says, his voice sharp and low as his heart races. "But here you are, tasting like coffee and gardens full of rain- begging to get eaten. Saihara-chan is kinda freaky."

Saihara pants and stares longingly at Kokichi's mouth. Pale fingertips tremble against the wound on that shoulder, already knitting together while the two wait. But the ghoul faces no resistance when he returns to kiss it. Likewise, Saihara finds no protest when he grinds himself against the swell of Kokichi's ass.

There's a sweetness to him now, and the half-ghoul only becomes more pleasant tasting when his thrusting is returned. Kokichi almost laughs at the idea of it. Of course Saihara would become better food like this. It makes teeth pierce back into naked flesh. Each whimper and loudly reverberating moan drives them forward. Kokichi can't stop himself from biting down, and down, chasing after that faint sugar. 

And it must be what humans call sugar- because what else is so slyly addictive?

"Nng-hahh," is all the response that Kokichi earns. Even when he allows his tongue to lavish soft meat with attention. There's a massive chunk of flesh gone now, safely chewed and resting inside of the ghoul's stomach. 

Yet he can't stop suckling at blood and kissing the exposed muscle. Saihara is just too good, he's too warm and flavorful with everything that Kokichi likes. Maybe the half-ghoul wants to eat him too. That would explain the patience and why he's getting fattened up. 

Kokichi hums at the amusing mental image, smirks and shivers, "Saihara-chan's dick feels soooo weird! Is he trying to get inside or something?"

In response to that, Saihara tales hold of his ass and almost starts to bounce him. There's growls and stifled murmurs too- but all Kokichi can consider is how humiliatingly easy it is. His body is light and simple to maneuver. All because of his legs doing nothing to weigh him down. The ghoul gasps when his cock rubs against Saihara's skin, and his arms wrap around the other body's shoulders. Kokichi's lungs seem to shy away from breathing with each bounce. 

One moment he's in the air and the next he's in Saihara's lap. As if the only thing keeping him grounded is another person's whim. Purple eyes shut, Kokichi stifling his own noises, while a pre-cum slicked cock thrusts against his asshole. 

"Wanna... I want to-" the half-ghoul whines, his fingers clenched so tightly into pale skin that it hurts. Kokichi's body lovingly betrays him by turning that pain into something delightful. Saihara pulls his face back to reveal an expression full of longing and need, "I want to have sex with Ouma-kun! I want to do so much, I need to show Ouma-kun all the ways I love him-"

“You're kind of a slut, Saihara-chan.”

Frenzied gold eyes widen as the other boy shivers. A good kind of shock, one that Kokichi can feel is making Saihara rutting faster and faster. So too is the ghoul being bounced even harder. Like he's a toy or something else with implied obscenity. 

“Kuhh-huh?! I'm really not a slut at all, this is because of o-other things. Ouma-kun likes it too- right?” Saihara half heartedly protests. 

Muffled moans fill the room when Kokichi rubs himself forward and backwards too. He's still hungry as well. A handful of moments pass before the ghoul goes right back to separating flesh from Saihara's body. Loud keening fills his ears with each slow bite, and it really does seem like Saihara has no idea what he sounds like. It's as if each quiet case of masturbation is echoing back while their sweat damp skin touches. Kokichi adores it. 

Thoughts and hunger swirl together with the feelings inside of Kokichi's chest. He grins against the still healing wounds and murmurs, “Love, hmmm, Saihara-chan says that he loves me. So much that he's starting to caress my legs like a degenerate.”

“H-huuunghn…” another cute little mewl. Saihara doesn't even try to say that he's wrong. 

Pale hands bigger than Kokichi's own- they're nimbly feeling up what are now mostly smooth and healed up stumps. Saihara can't seem to control himself at all. He's not doing a single thing to stop. Bouncing and groping, whimpering while his dick spreads precum against soft skin, the half-ghoul is like a vision of desperation. Kokichi laughs but sighs just as desperately. 

Both of them are definitely feeling good. Even Kokichi can't escape from the lovely sensation of touch. It's strange to admit it, but there's an almost throbbing want for Saihara to go inside. To know what it's like for the other boy's erection to spread him apart. Getting bounced as fast as Saihara wants, and to be thrust into while tightening around that twitching length-

“Saihara-chaaan~!” Kokichi's voice coos into a red ear, lust-sweet blood intoxicating him and tender meat just swallowed. It's a low and husky pitch that makes the ghoul’s partner groan. “What if I love you too, huh? You'll cum if I say that, won't you? Wouldn't that just be the icing that makes you orgasm while manhandling my fragile… vulnerable and helpless body? Because that's definitely the kind of pervert you are.”

Wordless little sounds spill forth like a litany. 

“I must love you after all. Your taste, your freakishly masochistic body that keeps melting in my mouth. But the best thing about Saihara-chan…”

“Ouma- Oumaoumaoumaouma-”

A leer. A grin, teeth stained by blood and lips stretched into something smug yet wanton. The look on Kokichi's face as he pulls back must be absolutely horrific. 

The boy known as Saihara Shuichi looks like he's finding his God for the first time. 

“You'd really just rather die than hurt me or lose me. No matter what,” ragged breathe trickles out of the ghoul. It seems like Saihara is struck by those words. But they both know that it's true. Kokichi's grin becomes cracked, his eyes like lavender pits, his voice struggling- “And I understand that so much. From the way you tore those bastards apart to how keep giving me everything.”

“Saihara-chan became mine all on his own! I'm soooo happy to have such a cute boyfriend.”

The angle that Saihara stops moving at is odd. His penis is right between the soft globes of Kokichi's rear. Normal, since the strange part is how the boy tips the ghoul back and starts pumping his cock. It makes Kokichi feel as if his toes are curling. Saihara's grip is tight enough that muscles tense from it. The sensation is powerful enough that the ghoul feels like letting go. 

It would be fun to lay back on the towel and look up at this beast like Saihara. Spread legs and his welcoming embrace up for the taking. Having seen a Saihara that rips enemies apart, something like blood lust has woken up inside of Kokichi's heart. 

Pacifism for ghouls is hard and Kokichi will defend his ideal world to the death. Fighting for that is a necessary evil, and Saihara has proven himself just strong enough that Kokichi can't help but like it. A small part of him wishes they'd met years ago. Someone strong like Saihara would have been the perfect ally… 

Also, the idea of the other ghoul play-fighting with him and then having sex is hot.

Kokichi thrusts his hips and giggles when precum spurts into the hand pleasuring him. Saihara stops, despite protests, and immediately starts licking the fluids up like a man possessed. Heat rushes down the boy like a dizzying wave. Then, he finds himself on his back after all. 

“Ahaha, what the hell is going on in you right now?” the squirming ghoul mutters. Those almost luminous eyes glance at him while Saihara leans down like a hungry animal. 

Reverent hands glide down soft thighs and gently press into where Kokichi's legs end. Muscle, fat, and peach fuzz covered skin are all worshiped by Saihara's elegant fingers. Kokichi can do nothing but watch in rapt confusion. The half-ghoul is truly doing nothing but borderline massage him while blood runs down his body. Drops of it burn against Kokichi's own. 

Lips are licked, with eyes locked onto eyes. Purple and gold that slowly come to portray the same things.

“I probably really maybe do love Saihara-chan a lot. But who knows the reasons?” Kokichi softly and mockingly ponders. “Maybe he'll find out if he sucks my dick.”

Chuckles pour out of the other boy even as he bends down. It's a shockingly great pose, and Kokichi is happy to see how Saihara's ass looks when raised into the air. Then, Saihara's mouth opens and licks a burning stripe of saliva right across the stump of Kokichi's left leg. A strangled and high pitched moan forces itself out of him. 

His eyes stare in shock as his body writhes. Kokichi wishes he could say that it didn't feel like anything. Nerves not active, that's a good excuse. 

But he did feel it and he still does. Saihara's tongue is hot against his skin. His hands are strong enough to hold Kokichi down too. Just one on a his waist and no amount of gasping or moving can work. That slick muscle keeps running over each inch of the former wound. It swirls wet circles and dips into the occasional crease, over faint differences where things are regrowing. 

From the middle to the end points, all around, and back again. As if Kokichi is the delicious one. 

Over-sensitive. Kokichi is growing over-sensitive with each passing minute. His skin is tingling from all the unexpected attention. And oh, the worst part is how his neglected cock is achingly hard. 

“Just stop that already! I'd rather see slutty Saihara-chan slobbering on my dick instead of my leg,” the ghoul grits while both hands claw at the towel underneath them. “You're getting way too brave from just a love confession. Are all half-ghouls into weird kinky sex acts? Does Saihara-chan think that blowing my thigh stump is another way to say hello? Jeez.”

Red covers Saihara's face again, “N-no… but Ouma-kun is really cute. It's best if he knows how beautiful he is to me, isn't it?”

Kokichi doesn't have much that he can say to that. A puppy like kind of excitement takes over Saihara's face. It's totally not because of the ghoul hiding his smiling mouth. 

And when Kokichi's voice rings out with a shout it's not, definitely not, because of how his dick is suddenly hitting the back of Saihara's throat. The boy isn't arching his back or feeling his purple eyes roll back. His hips aren't struggling against Saihara's firm hold. Kokichi's thighs aren't trying to close around the other boy's head either. 

Saliva and the texture of Saihara's tongue. The smooth hardness of his palate. Heat and almost sticky drool further in. Each breath that Saihara takes is shallow, and each exhalation hits the skin of Kokichi's pelvis. But the tightness is the worst of it, the mind-numbing way that Saihara's throat embraces the ghoul is like torture. Kokichi wants to get away and he wants to get closer. 

Lust darkened eyes glance up at him, and one arm shifts to reach down-

Orgasm hits the moment Saihara bobs his head upwards, hums, and caresses Kokichi's fenerium with his deft tongue. Cum shoots out hard enough for the half-ghoul to startle. It feels like Kokichi's mind is breaking. Like he's been pent up, and he absolutely has. Saihara lowers his head and moans. His own gaze looks so ecstatic that Kokichi grabs at his hair and tugs him all the way down. 

The half-ghoul stares wide eyed and instinctively swallows around the penis fucking his throat. Both of Kokichi's hands are soon gripping teal hair, and Saihara's own are pumping away at his own cock. Overstimulation sends spikes of pain down the ghoul’s spine. Yet he keeps thrusting his dick upwards. Ejaculate and saliva quickly coat Saihara's lips, and the half-ghoul looks as hazy minded as Kokichi feels. 

Must be from the way that he's using Saihara's mouth and throat like a fleshlight. 

“Hhha… haah, ghuh-ghl…” Saihara's slack jaw keeps his mouth open once Kokichi releases him. A copious amount of thick and ‘mostly’ clear fluid floods his red lips. That delightful tongue too- it hangs out as though Saihara wants to advertise more. 

Gold eyes flutter closed and open off and on. Kokichi himself just basks while his penis goes back to being flaccid. Still, a sense of pride is strong in his chest. He watches how Saihara's should finishes healing up and rubs his full stomach. If this doesn't make what the boy meant by slutty, then nothing will. The half-ghoul just has to accept that the real glutton one here is himself. 

Kokichi blinks, noticing that Saihara is moving upwards, and promptly squeaks when his boyfriend lays on top of him. 

“H-hey! What are doing, you-”

“Mmmm?”

“Saaaaihaaaraaaa-channnn, get off of me!”

It takes five minutes for Saihara to get off and clean them up. 

Kokichi makes the decision to not forgive him at all. Not even when Saihara makes him a deliriously good cup of coffee. Yeah, definitely not…


	5. NSFW, saiou, Hypersexual Kokichi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten about this. Hohoho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is titled Affectionate Tribute in my mind ewe. I almost posted it as a stand alone... It doesn't need any warnings for once! Basically straightforward. 
> 
> There's a kinkier version, but I'm not sure that the requester would appreciate the added kink. So it's contained to only my friends. If the requester and I talk about it, and they give permission, I'll post it as a separate fic.

"We need to steal the diamond. How exactly can we steal the diamond without the rubber chickens?" Kokichi whispers with both hands on his seldom used cap, cradling and pulling, eyes nearly stabbing into the surface of an ebony desk. 

This is an odd welcome back from a three day trip to Osaka, Shuichi thinks. 

Shuichi then privately reminds himself to not think about how his boyfriend looks a victim of ghostly possession. Yet, Kokichi's face is so focused on nothing that it's unnerving. Two hours of this and the man is still zoning out. In Shuichi’s plant filled office, of course, after claiming it for DICE; complete with his full uniform of hat and cape on. As though Shuichi hasn't already done what adds up to compromising himself for the organization. Not that the Ultimate Detective is upset by it. 

Living with Kokichi's eventual victory is something that Shuichi is glad for. Joining DICE and fully committing is fulfilling. Conflict of interest aside… 

"For starters," the man begins, tone light but fondly sarcastic, something that draws purple eyes towards him. Shuichi almost pauses at the interest in that gaze. He then continues, "You could always not talk about your crimes with your detective boyfriend."

Hazy eyes lock onto Shuichi’s hips instead of his lips. It's in that moment that everything clicks. All together, both men understand that one person's annoyance can be another's living hell. One person with slight headache can coexist with someone that has migraines each day. Thus, just as simply, one person's libido can require occasional masturbation while someone else needs to fuck five people each day. 

Pitch black shoes click against coffee brown hardwood as the Detective approaches. 

Ouma Kokichi is very much near that last person. His 'fucked up need to get off all the time' is something that used to cause genuine distress. Now though, Shuichi understands why his boyfriend has to masturbate so much. Whether they have sex that day or not. Kokichi just isn't wired to stay unaroused throughout the day, and it's never a fleeting thing. Just the same in that Shuichi doesn't mind acting as his ‘Royal Concubine’. 

Gaining better sexual stamina is something that Shuichi is proud of. 

The other man still gets self conscious about asking though. A fact that Shuichi can admit angers him in the abstract. Knowing that Kokichi feels ashamed of himself for needing help, of any sort, burns. 

Fingers slowly press down on deeply colored wood. The room is heating as Kokichi flushes, his irises obscured by dilated pupils and his lips parting. It's something that his outfit can't distract from. Shuichi merely smiles down at the man he loves. Already, the detective can see how the Ultimate Supreme Leader squirms. He doesn't even need to say anything. Nothing is to be said when Kokichi is like this. 

Although, some very effective apologies are in order. 

“If I don't tell my informant about the heist, then he can't tell me anything. Even Shumai should know something as simple as that. Honestly, what am I supposed to do with you?” the man murmurs breathlessly. 

Hazy purple flutters shut as Kokichi shudders. Then the man lowers his head until laying on the desk. It seems like he's starting to give up. Shuichi wonders if Kokichi is about to demand begging, or if he's going to try further deflection until the Detective brings it up first. Both are time honored methods for Kokichi to use. As the Ultimate Supreme Leader and someone who blankets himself in falsehood- Ouma Kokichi is rarely straightforward in the truest sense of the word. He's just not the type to bluntly ask. 

Kokichi fidgets and pants harshly, thighs obviously rubbing together under the cape obscuring him, “Shumai is awful for breaking his phone! For three days, I… waaah! I could have died!”

“Breaking it wasn't my intention, and I did try to call you after my cell phone broke. Forgetting that though,” the Detective pauses while watching his boyfriend and technical leader writhe in his comfortable office chair. It's not the outlandish throne back at DICE headquarters, but perhaps some carnal fun would be possible. 

“Are you alright, Ouma-kun?”

The question makes Kokichi's head tilt upwards. His black hat and all it's military esque glory slowly tilt towards the desk. Glaring eyes seething with lust lock onto him, and both men seem to maintain this. 

Purple and black, dilated pupils, drag themselves down the covered contours of Shuichi’s body. 

“Hearing Saihara-chan ask that is just wonderful,” the man grunts. His voice is low but almost seething. Kokichi sneers and huffs, “Saihara-chan is sooo lucky that he's pretty! Half the time it's just so clear that people only want to grab your hips and fuck you.”

Shuichi’s eyebrows raise at that. He's tempted to ask if Kokichi is one of those people. It's rather unfortunate that the man himself isn't prepared for penetrative sex. The Detective knows just how much his lover likes to spank him during anal, but Kokichi's behavior speaks of a very different preference. A Kokichi that wants to dominate or top doesn't wallow like this. Usually. Shuichi is very aware of how surprising his lover can be. 

One small rush flashes down the man's spine as he catches Kokichi squirming again. 

“You've been doing your best without me, right? Ouma Kokichi's best is always something that earns… praise. There's a reason why you're our leader,” Shuichi carefully states while a flush spreads across his face. He leans down and smiles when Kokichi pushes himself up. 

“Saihara-chan isn't the one who gets to decide anything about leadership!” the man snaps as their lips grow closer. “That's not up to a bed warmer.”

Abrupt shudders attack the Detective as his mouth fills with saliva. Hearing such things from his lover's- boss's mouth is always humbling in the best ways. It certainly is Shuichi’s unofficial role at times too. The person that helps tame Kokichi's libido and urges is him, and neither man has issues with prescribing a label to it. Shuichi is the Royal Concubine, who warms their bed, the Ultimate Supreme Leader's beloved with not an inch of remaining prudish manner. 

Kokichi's relief and peace of mind. 

“I love you,” the Detective says in reply. 

Laughter echoes against parted lips, and Kokichi's voice murmurs against them, “How cruel. You saying that is a slap to face, and that's not a lie.”

Their kiss is careful and slow. At first it only consists of lips pressing against lips. It's a sweetness that betrays Kokichi's earlier ire as a minor ruse, but frustration does bleed through. Slight roughness from lack of chapstick makes them both lick their lips. Kokichi lets out a needy hum, overeagerly nipping, when their tongues finally meet. Rationality fades in favor of Shuichi chasing after that slick muscle. He finds himself tilting his head for easy access, and Kokichi is more than happy to welcome him in. 

Drinking him in, that's what the other man is doing. Kokichi pushes them further together and twists his tongue against Shuichi’s own. It's delicious inside of him- faint hints of coffee with a subtle caramel tinge. Not that it matters when Shuichi loves each kind of kiss. Whether Kokichi tastes like pure sugar or not, the Detective loves feeling him. The only way that Shuichi favors sweet things is when the taste is on his lover's lips.

Hands balls up into Shuichi's button down shirt. They pull while Kokichi pushes the rest of himself up onto the desk, airy moans filling the air. 

Shuichi remembers how the other man describes it. Itchy, like a burning pit is eating him. A fog that settles over his mind to make him hazy. That Kokichi, with all his terrifyingly complex thoughts, becomes overtaken by a singular focus; the need for some kind of sexual satisfaction. He can't rest and he can't think, yet the thoughts never cease. 

It's like a borderline compulsion that has Kokichi swamped in fantasy and masturbation to the point of pain. So, how could Shuichi stand himself doing anything other than help?

Rivets of saliva are flooding down Kokichi's lips when they finally break away. 

Each moment of worry back when they first started dating has been worth it. There's been work, a lot, but to see Kokichi becoming more and more at ease…

A pale hand smoothes out the Ultimate Supreme Leader's hair. Shuichi tucks away errant locks and brushes down flyaway strands. He smiles at the needy whines that thank him. The man on his desk is like a gift of stainless white, bright contrast in the sophisticated wooden hues of Shuichi’s office. Especially when each thing in the room is dedicated to an antique aesthetic. Kokichi stands out no matter where he is, but the red flush creeping down past his scarf highlights it. 

Beautiful is the only thing that describes him. 

Only seconds later and Kokichi is unclasping his cape. It falls behind him with a flutter, and both of them soon turn the desk into their newest love nest. The Detective can't resist the stirring of his own lusts. Kokichi is a perfect picture beneath him- one hand clenching his cape and the other hiding his mouth. No words, of course not, the man is all anticipation and want as black and white fabric flutters to the floor as well. 

He's striking with those eyes of his glimmering in warm lamplight. 

Gold and purple meet while Shuichi undoes Kokichi's belt buckle, and the Detective notes a small plastic bottle in one pocket. He doesn't doubt that DICE’s leader has prepared himself for anything. 

Yet the most obvious thing is the bulge distorting white pants. It seems that Kokichi really has been waiting for this. Shuichi flounders with the urge to use his mouth. To take lean down and let the man's cock bump against the back of his throat. Feeling those veins pulse against his tongue is always a treat. 

“Saihara-chan looks like he has my brain right now,” comes a low huff, Kokichi snarling a teasing grin up at the Detective. “We can't both be dumb sluts.”

“Dumb slut is... definitely not what you are.”

Kokichi blinks at him and laughs, body twisting as if to dance against his cape, and the man seems to preen. His grin morphs into an entirely too innocent smile, “Am I supposed to be an intelligent slut then? Should I try to do all my work while you ram my tiny asshole with your hwwwuuuge penis? Is my sex slave saying that I'm a very respectable receptacle for his cum?”

Laughter spills out of Shuichi’s lips before he can stop it. Hearing it seems to make the man beneath him relax. Still, it's a little bit concerning and his hands pause just as they pull down bright green underwear. Kokichi talking like this about himself can be anything from self-depreciation to innocent teasing to-

A nudge from Kokichi's legs pulls Shuichi from his thoughts. 

“Jeez, stop staring into space like that! Shumai is probably getting a headache from worrying too. A good concubine should focus on pleasing his ruler,” the Ultimate Supreme Leader demands with zero subtleties. He spreads his legs and better exposes himself with zero hesitance. 

It looks like someone has been rubbing himself raw again, the Detective notices. That certain puts a damper on Shuichi’s plan for frottage. Oral might be more painful than preferred as well. Sadism and masochism are well and good, but he doesn't really think that outright pain would be appropriate. Not when Kokichi's hands are anxiously fidgeting against black cloth. 

Pulling Kokichi's pants and underwear off of him leads into turning him over. It's like a grand tease that makes the Detective lick his lips. Kokichi's body is an elegant thing of pale skin and Shuichi soon spreads pert ass cheeks to reveal a twitching hole, and his lover moans happily when a gentle thumb caresses him. 

There doesn't seem to be any pain from just touching here, the man happily notes. 

Shuichi grabs the lube and vigorously rolls it between his palms. It's already warm, but there's no harm in making sure. Quiet grumbles pair with Kokichi's opening winking. The display is quite arousing whether on purpose or not. Days of little to no contact have been rough on the Detective as well. 

He honestly can't wait to run his hands down Kokichi's skin, to feel that familiar body heat. Maybe Shuichi himself is just a little addicted after all these years. 

Warm lubricant runs down his hand in slow tickles. The sight of how Kokichi shivers, body twitching like a livewire, makes the man snap the bottle shut and quickly coat his fingers. Each digit becomes slick with it before they make their way down towards the pucker of Kokichi's asshole. It contracts and expands at the gentle touches that circle around it, the rim relaxing slowly. Shuichi can tell that Kokichi has been trying to satisfy himself there too. 

Reddened from previous play, Shuichi’s caresses coax the hole into opening just a bit. A few drops of lube escape it and join what's already being rubbed onto sensitive skin. 

“You always take sooo long. Doesn't Saihara-chan get that foreplay is a waste of time? Mmmhnn~?” Kokichi murmurs with obvious relief in his voice. The man hums languidly, legs spreading further around Shuichi’s body. “This is such a horrible thing to do… I should order you to stop hesitating an- Hhaah?!”

One lube wet slap reverberates around the room. The flesh of Kokichi's firm rump jiggles for a moment. Kokichi himself is frozen on the desk, hands balled into his cape. 

Purple eyes and a flushed glare shoot backwards, judging, “If Shumai doesn't do that again then he's going to get tied up and have pies thrown at him.”

“Exactly what kind of pie?” Shuichi asks. 

“The ‘spank me again or else’ pie,” is the growl that he receives in response. 

Content amusement tempers the urge to obey. For all that Kokichi will make moves towards instant gratification, they both know that he prefers to work hard. Each claim of knowing each possible shortcut is rebuked by the Ultimate Supreme Leader's actions. Shuichi smiles and rubs the skin in front of him. His hands knead soft flesh without paying any mind to resulting whines. Kokichi's body is one made from constant activity, firm with lean muscles. 

But the man can't quite escape from stubborn caches of fat. Especially now, when everyone is older and Kokichi spends just a little too much time planning ‘Criminal Acts’. Areas like squishy upper thigh give into Shuichi’s grip. It's wonderful to see how each touch makes Kokichi squirm. 

Sighing, the Detective squeezes his lover's ass one last time. Then he leaves a loud and open handed swat right on Kokichi's left ass cheek. It's a swift slap that rings out through the air. Yet the other man remains perfectly silent. Kokichi's eyes stare into Shuichi's with a challenge. One that makes the man swallow harshly, and it's not from dislike. 

Another moment passes and again- Shuichi’s hand targets the pale flesh in front of him. He inhales sharply as the force of it makes his own hand sting. Kokichi's body up as well, but the other Ultimate lets out only a muffled hiss. Shuichi rubs at warming skin comfortingly. 

Then his hand rains down as much as possible. 

Each slap rings out with a hint of wetness and drags more noises from Kokichi's lips. A fifth spank to the right makes the man raise his ass higher. The tenth to the left coerces a wilting moan. Shuichi’s hands rush down during a short intermission, grabbing hold of his work and running fingernails down warmth. Kokichi's ass is red from all the attention. Moans finally break free when the Detective spreads him again. 

Kokichi's opening is winking, twitching, so relaxed and greedy for attention that it's shocking. 

He whimpers, fingers spasming against cloth while Shuichi slips his own inside. Kokichi's head raises and his hips move back for more. It's slick and overwhelmingly soft within him. Burning hot, and his inner walls feel velvetine as they embrace the digits rubbing them. There's so much lube that loud squelches fill the air around them. Shuichi licks his lips but continues to gently swirl his fingers. 

“Really… being honest now. Ha! Saihara-chan is so,” comes Kokichi's lustful voice. The man's head is completely resting on the table, his body twitching. 

“If you're going to say perverted, I think that the pervert here is you.”

Feverish purple and a lewd grin. 

“Saihara-chan has been thinking about me this whole time, right?” Kokichi asks, the sound of him sending jolts of arousal down Shuichi’s spine. “Shumai must have missed how much I love him bending me over, how I'm always ready and loose- from his-”

More fingers slip past a welcoming sphincter, and Shuichi’s eyes burn with interest as his leader struggles. He can feel each throb and pulse traveling through Kokichi's body. The Detective can see it, he can feel it, the way that the other man is barely holding on. 

Gasping siren calls reach his ears. The man pays them no mind, and instead spreads the four fingers inside of Kokichi's heat. He rubs, swirls, presses down and teases that wonderful spot called the prostate. It slowly swells under Shuichi’s loving affections. More whimpers and even aborted pleading are offered to him. 

Kokichi even groans when the fingers leave, only to mumble happily when they spread his rim wide open. His silky wet insides are exposed for Shuichi’s eyes only. Red and absolutely begging for something to stretch them. To pound away until the Ultimate Supreme Leader is satisfied. 

The sight is amazing, and the man can't help but softly remark, “You're definitely the pervert here, Ouma-kun. Leaking lube and gaping from simple preparatory foreplay.”

“I'll be… your cockslut for just today. Shuichi can be the Leader instead,” Kokichi says. He shivers and pushes out against the fingers exposing him. “Can't wait anymore.”

Shuichi stares at his boyfriend but wastes no time in readying himself. Lubricant is smeared along his cock, the length of it something that Kokichi has spent hours sucking, and both of them moan when the head enters tight heat. Minutes seem to go by as more and more slips in. Kokichi's ass provides zero resistance. His body merely falls limp against the desk, white top riding up and showing off his back. Inside of the man is that familiar softness combined with thumping need. 

“Yes, yes, please,” comes small murmurs. Wanton, the whispers pour from drool covered lips. Rasps of relief flood out too. Kokichi's eyes are half closed and misty, rapturous, “Shuichi’s is finally in again, o-ooh he's just waaaay too much. Big, nishishishi- Oh! More, more, there's still mor-more in me? Shuiichi… splitting me open again, fuck me fuck me fuck!”

He really did his best waiting, Shuichi thinks. 

For a few minutes there's only the slightest rocking of hips. The sensation of Kokichi's body remaining pliant. Shuichi watches with wonder as stress vanishes from the once high-strung man.

Just a handful of gentle thrusts reveal what the Detective already knows. Kokichi's body won't tense up at all. He remains the same, borderline limp, and is so content that the only reactions are intoxicated smiles and babbling. It spurs Shuichi on to the point of pulling all the way out. Then, impulsively, the man thrusts back in so roughly that Kokichi shrieks. A keening and ecstasy filled kind of noise. One that pairs with his body twitching. 

Drops of saline bud up in the corners of purple eyes. Only a winded mewl comes from Kokichi afterwards, his upper body twisting. The tears are as lovely as always. 

Actual tears are not often something that Ouma Kokichi exposes. Shuichi’s mind thus fixates on them, on how they make the other man's eyes glisten and what comes with them. Tiny hitches in Kokichi's breathing. Involuntary twitches or even chest heaving dye to sobbing. Liking the sight of Kokichi's tears is strange, of course, but Kokichi himself tends to…

Moaning, Shuichi rolls his hips forward. He does so in a far more gentle manner. There's no point in going full throttle just to reach orgasm. 

Purple eyes stare up at him with a happy vacancy as a smile crosses Kokichi's face. It's just as hazy as the look in his eyes. The man clenches down around Shuichi’s cock, once and twice while slow thrusting coaxes murmurs. Small admissions of pleasure or Shuichi’s name- paired with slickness and velvety heat.

"Ouma-kun, you really do feel good... I think that you're always amazing," Shuichi softly remarks, hands trailing over exposed skin. His fingers flirt with the still present shirt and slowly hike it further up. Pale skin with a slight shimmer of sweat meet him, and Kokichi's head turns away from him.

"Everyone always listens to what you say no matter what. Even when they think they don't, or you think that too, Ouma-kun has such an effect on people," the man continues. Shuichi’s hips slowly picking up in speed as his lover's body convulses around him, his voice deepening from lust, "Ouma-kun commands attention and an audience just by breathing. That's what I know! E-even now when you're writhing and, ah-!" 

Hands grip down as Kokichi's own hips break their stubborn stillness, energy finally breaking past that limp relief. The man's head rises again as a truly wanton moan haunts the air. Shuichi’s eyes track each flowing reaction. Pleasure, need, and even discomfort; like this it's as though he can see each thing driving Kokichi onwards.

Loud and incoherent gasps are soon followed by laughter. Another thrust at a slightly different angle draws forth a strangled whine. Kokichi forces himself up on trembling arms and looks back with a frantic gaze. The tears must make it hard to see with how thick and numerous they are, but the Ultimate Supreme Leader seems more than capable. 

Time apart isn't too unusual at all in the end, and Shuichi wonders about the other variables. Yet the thought fades when a Kokichi's wet lips open to reveal drool. He gulps just before a trail of it drips down. Kokichi's entire body looks like a gratuitous display, one that Shuichi wants to pin down and give much needed respite. Instead, the Detective can't help himself. 

Shuichi leans in as close as possible just to pull Kokichi into a kiss.

"F-fuck meee, come on come on just please fuck me and fill me up?" Kokichi rambles against his lips. Spit momentarily connects the two of them. A giggling mewl marks yet another clench of the man's pelvic muscles. 

Breathy and hot. Kokichi's words and his tone are the same as well. He's pressing into the way that Shuichi’s body weighs down on him, and the other man remembers well the sight of how the rim enveloping him looks when getting fucked. Embracing his cock with each thrust or twitching from the lightest touch.

"You really do love letting your mind go blank in the end," the Detective fondly murmurs against a reddened ear. A protest stifles itself, but Shuichi’s hips begin to move in earnest. 

Rocking forward more sharply draws a similar moan. Shuichi himself groans from the added stimulation of Kokichi's movements. Then he squeaks, unprepared for the force that meets him when he slams his hips forward. Wet slapping sounds fill his ears as he chases after more and more of that snug feeling. It's impossible for him to fully process everything about it. Only that Kokichi's inner walls are soft, giving, and unbearably tight. 

"N-no I don't! I definitely don't and- Shumai~! Shumai, Shumai is... Don't pull out like that!" the other man weakly snaps. 

Kokichi's words herald an almost shocked series of moans. Shuichi uses his hands to hold onto slim hips, fingers brushing thick peach fuzz, and he quickly pistons into the man below him. He can't get nearly enough of the Ultimate Supreme Leader's slickness and heat. 

“This part of you is awe inspiring too, but I know that Ouma-kun can't admit that yet-”

“Shumai looking at me and s-seeing someone good isn't fair,” Kokichi hisses, head tossing, and black-plum hair framing a flushed face. His lips twisting into a pleased smile despite his words.

But then it twists into a grimace of ecstasy, the only way that Shuichi can describe it. Nothing about the other man is composed now. There's no trickster grim, no knowing gaze, only carnal abandon; Kokichi's voice ringing out, "Shhhuuu-ichi!" 

Kokichi is tight and spasming around him. Orgasm has him letting out small and aborted groans, but Shuichi knows better. There's no way that Kokichi could ever be satisfied with just this. Lubricant creates a loud and slippery mess between them. Shuichi’s steady thrusting echoes throughout the room. A perfect chorus for the man below him to match. 

It's just as perfect inside too. The Detective loves the velvety and silky texture of Kokichi's inner walls. Each inch is a snug bend that accepts what Shuichi provides. Kokichi himself seems to go into a trance from the slightest stimulation. Not that he can help it, from that, both of them can lose their minds. 

"Ahlllmosht, 'im ah-ahhh! Noooooo," Kokichi whines dramatically when Shuichi gently grabs his erection, mindful of that noticed soreness, twitching all over. "Nnnhoooo-ohnrgh? Not there, I wanna cum jhust from Shumai's dick!" 

Shuichi eyes the deranged grin on Kokichi's face. Takes in the weakening of his lover's arms, how his fingers claw into endless black fabric. All signs are pointing towards Kokichi loving this. Everything about the man is already wrecked beyond repair. Which means that only one way of resetting him exists. It's not a new song and dance, and they're both skilled at the steps. But he removes his hand just in case. 

"W-wahnt Saihara-chan to make me so sore. Make me cum…"

"From only anal?" a deep and joyful grunt turns into a shout, Shuichi’s cock pounding right into Kokichi's prostate. Scattered pleading reaches the Detective's ears like worship. Then, purposefully, he slams their hips together so hard that the slaps are deafening. 

One moment passes.

"N-no! I lied, I fucking lied, please touch me!" Kokichi demands, growling while his hips rock. 

Golden eyes watch Kokichi become limp and incomprehensive of anything but their bodies. Pulses alert him, and Shuichi’s hand grows wet with semen. Kokichi's face becomes hidden from view. Moans trickle from no doubt spit soaked lips. Whispers of please follow until Shuichi smiles. He jerks his lover off, just a bit firmly, and knows that Kokichi loves this type of overstimulation play the most. 

"Milk… me… ruin me all over again and make me f-faint from it," the other man whispers, voice husky, his body rocking like a doll from harsher and harsher thrusts. 

The man sounds like sin and chocolate paired with wine. Shuichi can't find the strength to deny him, not right now. He stifles a high pitched whine of his own and grips Kokichi's hip tighter. Inside of Kokichi is what feels like an inferno. Both of them are burning up with lust, and for one of them it's almost literal. 

Softness, tight like a vice despite the rest of Kokichi being reduced to a laughing-drooling pile. No one else could be so endearing wanton. It brings an idea to Shuichi’s mind. He quickly releases Kokichi's flank and cock, missing the sensations, and raises the man's lolling head. Only a short gurgle occurs before the Detective's fingers swipe at lips. 

Drooling profusely, fingers splayed out listlessly- Kokichi almost seems to be unresponsive. Then his lazy tongue flicks waiting fingertips. It's easy to gently plunge them inside too. Shuichi finds himself hearing and feeling that messy mouth suckling. A lick, a suck, an action that has no name other than waiting; Shuichi rubs his digits against the hedonistic silk called 'the inside of Kokichi's cheeks'. 

He massages Kokichi's own ejaculate into a pliant tongue.

Even Kokichi's legs start to grow limp then. Choked and wet noises vibrate against Shuichi’s fingers, but the best sounds are from their skin colliding. Kokichi's ass has even started to grow a bit loose. Gold eyes dart down and narrow happily at the sight of their physical connection. Shuichi watches how that hole moves with him and swallows up his cock. 

Bottoming out, the man starts to thrust rapidly while clinging to his lover. Kokichi moans around him, tongue being nearly groped just before Shuichi’s fingers go farther back.

It takes just a few seconds for Shuichi to press his weight down. He's almost spooning his lover now, embracing everything about the other man. Kokichi can't even form words anymore. And Shuichi knows just how to top things off- he knows how to make Kokichi's next orgasm all he needs.

"Ouma-sama," Shuichi demurely gasps, completely genuine in how apologetic he sounds. He keeps his voice low but not deep. Respectful, yet only in the context of talking to his better, "I'm so sorry for neglecting your needs. Please let me make up for it. There's no excuses for my behavior! I'll give everything I have to correct my mistake. Ouma-sama can use me or punish me however he likes."

"As your lowly concubine."

Kokichi's breath against his fingers is sublime. 

"Because I exist for your pleasure..."

Helpless sobbing and almost smug moans are Shuichi’s reward. As is the arching of Kokichi's body, the hitching of voice and air, the struggle of muscles and limbs- Kokichi is alive with a building climax. Shuichi leans in close towards a reddened ear. They're utterly together with not an iota of space to be found. Kokichi's vocals are relentless, of only in how close he is, a song that Shuichi is addicted to. 

Shuichi smiles against Kokichi's twitching ear, "I love you so much Kokichi. Do you want me to swear fealty to you, again? Do you want me to kiss your feet? Do you want me to sit below the table again, during a meeting, and let you use my face to gain relief over and over?"

Convulsions. Kokichi's muffled screams, his gagging, all of him is singing while Shuichi makes shallow thrusts. Even this level of stamina is just a hard earned skill though. Shuichi isn't going to last any longer than this. He's almost done. 

"Or maybe I'll get locked into bondage again... So that my Master can ruse me at his leisure."

This time, Kokichi cums while savagely biting into the skin of Shuichi’s fingers. He grunt-screams like a beast and one hand slaps against the table. But his mouth goes slack just as quickly. Shuichi keeps his fingers where they are, preferring to be bitten instead of Kokichi. 

All while the most sublime sensations wrack him as well. They seize him through Kokichi's body, shared via how the man seems to embody a rhythm of pleasure. Shuichi’s hips stutter until he forces himself still. He ends up biting into the pale and sweaty neck below him. From there, he rides out the aftershocks of Kokichi's orgasm- biting harder when his own hits. 

Relief in the form of twin sounds, sighing moans, marks the end of their reunion. Shuichi laughs while happily spilling himself inside of his lover's ass. He moans before nuzzling Kokichi's shoulder blade. It's takes a few moments to pull himself out, but Kokichi seems to finally be at peace. 

"Oh..." Shuichi coughs, embarrassed when he realizes that yes- Kokichi is at peace because he's unconscious.

Dryly, and while tucking Kokichi's cape over him, the Detective mutters one thing. An amused, "Clean up might go faster like this."

Even with that very plausible idea though- well. 

Shuichi gently sets his sleeping boyfriend down on the office lounge chair. Or, as Kokichi always calls it, the makeout place. He debates cleaning up for a moment. Then he wisely curls up next to the other Ultimate. Post sex time is sleep time for sure. At least when it comes to Kokichi. Shuichi shuts his eyes and tucks his head right under Kokichi's own. 

With one last kiss, to a collarbone, the office fades away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for putting these on hold! My irl stuff has cleared up though, and now I'm doing much better. Which means more fanfic. I'm hoping to clear up my wips and stuff first tho. I have too much old fic to finish! Honestly, I never wanted to become this kind of writer... Unfinished fics feel really bad. 
> 
> So, for now, these will be a tertiary focus.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave requests and to tell me how to tag this... It's going to become a monster.
> 
> Edit because I posted around 2AM; 
> 
> SFW requests are absolutely welcome and you can post them however you want! Asking that nsfw ones be anon is bc... Well. We don't kink shame in this house, but it can get embarrassing. Also if my friends make nsfw requests I might be bias towards them. So anon equality it is! 
> 
> Any noncon requests will, if filled, be filled as Con-noncon and/or similar. All smut fills will also have both characters be legal adults. No requests for underage sex will be allowed, and I'll probably delete them.


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